Now is the Winter of Our Discontent
by JamieGal
Summary: Hermione, having lived a wonderfully long life, meets her fate once more after Harry Potter's funeral. The nostalgia she feels for the past might just be enough to take her back to her favorite memories. Or perhaps it will take her back father than she imagined. Suddenly without the other two members of the Golden Trio, Hermione is left alone in the past. Tomione. Please review!


(A/N):Hi everybody! I'm just uploading the first part to a fic that I'm working on. I **have not edited it yet**, so expect a little better transitions than the ones written now. I'm going to take this down later so I can finish it before I actually post it. So if anybody wants to make any comments or tell me what they think, you can review, pm me, or leave me an ask on my tumblr, .com. So enjoy and tell me what you think!

**Disclaimer: I own none of these characters or their recognizable counterparts. **

The weather was gloomy on the day of Harry Potter's funeral, and quite fitting it was. Hermione stood alone in the small area where he was to be buried. Her old body creaked as it moved to sit in the grass. She had never predicted the day ever happening within her lifetime, but she was here nonetheless. Ron was closing the door to the car when he noticed his wife crying. Making his way over to the grave site before the others could make it, he sat down with his wife and shed tears along with her. It was time to say goodbye to a member of the golden trio.

"Ron, if something ever happens to me-"

"Hermione, stop. You are fine. We are fine. Nothing is going to separate us for a long, long time. I love you," Ron rubbed her shoulders to prevent the cold and to comfort his wife.

There was a small moment of silence only interrupted by birds chirping in the distance. The rain fell down lazily from the treetops and made splashing noises as it hit everything in sight.

"I cannot believe it is over. It seems just like yesterday when Harry defeated Voldemort and we started working at the ministry. Ron, I miss him so much already."

Ron kicked a small piece of dirt into the awaiting grave, "I feel the same way. If I could go back and relive it, I would. Come, come Hermione. We need to stand up, people will be coming soon and they will worry."

The pair stood up and walked away from the site and closer to the edge of the cemetery where the rest of the funeral attendees would be arriving. Holding hands, the famous couple made their way over graves of unknown witches and wizards to where the road intersected the cemetery. Hermione hobbled on dutifully, but she was already feeling weak from so much walking.

Cars streamed into the parking lot followed by some members on brooms. A few people apparated, but most followed the hearse in a manner of respect. Well known faces walked past Hermione, and a sniffling red head, now a white head, shuffled past her. Ginny had handled his death well, and she was even accepting the truth already. Hermione knew it wasn't just coincidence that she was already taking things so well. Years ago Ginny had told her that she was just waiting for Harry to hurt himself in his job and she patiently twiddled her thumbs in anticipation.

Neville hobbled in on a cane and nodded to the last members of the golden trio. He had resigned from Hogwarts years ago but he was still living in the castle as some sort of help. Behind him there was a large man who looked to be even older than herself and Neville. There was nobody with him but he walked with purpose towards the grave anyways.

"Ron, do you know who that is?" Hermione pointed to the white haired man.

"I can't say that I do. We probably know him but just can't remember honey."

Hermione nodded and watched as he walked down the dirty path. In the end there were hundreds of people celebrating The Boy Who Lived's death. His title had an ironic ring to it as it entered her mind. The service was going to start soon and the current minister of magic was going to preside over the burial. Tears sprung up again in Hermione's eyes when she saw the casket over the grave. Surely it could not be her friend in there, the famous Harry Potter! He had beat death on multiple occasions and would never succumb to it's powers.

"We gather here today to mourn the loss of a beloved wizard, husband, father, and hero. I hope you will all join me in saying that Harry Potter was the greatest wizard of all time."

Hermione tried not to snort at that phrase. Many people had tried to apply that title to Harry in years past but he still stuck with the idea that Dumbledore was far greater than himself. She smiled at the notion and wished her best friend was beside her again to refute the powers as he always did. The ceremony was short and soon the wizards were all raising their wands to the sky just as they did when Dumbledore died. It was one of Harry's wishes for that to happen. He always made sure his life was surrounded with lightness and good.

As the last words were spoken, Hermione let go of Ron and walked towards the gate. She had wanted to make sure she could see the unfamiliar man one last time. Plus she could not stand one more bit of crying. Her face was beginning to hurt from all the shed tears.

Reaching into her pocket she fingered her wand and watched the white haired man as he left the funeral. Once he was within ten feet, Hermione drew her wand and stepped up to the man. Truthfully, she could not do much as an old woman, but he was also an old man, and that had to count for something.

"Who are you? I read the entire invitee list and while I blanched at Malfoy being invited, I do not recall your name."

The man pulled out a wallet from which he drew a small picture. It did not move. In it, a small Harry in over-sized clothing stood next to a chubby boy who looked to be just a bit older than him.

"My name is Dudley."

The realization hit her. She had almost forgot Harry's years under the stairs. "You were his cousin, weren't you? The one who bullied him?"

"I admit some personal flaws from my younger years, but it has been a long time since I acted like that. Harry and I were on speaking terms actually. He rang me a few days before he died and asked that I come."

She couldn't speak for a moment, "I am sorry. It was a horrible loss."

"Indeed. I know we were always fond of each other, but I do-I mean did, admire him for many years. I hope he rests in peace."

"As do I. Can I walk you to your car?"

"Yes, of course."

Ron watched Hermione draw her wand from the ring of mourning people and prepared to go after her. In her feeble state she had attacked almost three people now claiming them to be death eaters. Instead, when she pocketed her wand and continued to talk to the man, he observed the altercation more carefully. It was the man she had pointed out only minutes prior.

Ginny approached him from the side and griped his arm. He wrapped them around her and let her cry into his shoulder. Ron could only think of one thing, and that was how Ginny and he were the last two remaining of their family. George, Percy, Charlie, and Bill had all passed in years prior.

"Why, Ron? Why did this happen?"

He shook his head lightly, "I don't know Ginny, I don't know. It sure isn't fair."

"Stupid magic! You think we'd be able to cure anything! I hate cancer!"

"Me too, Ginny."

People dispersed from around the grave and retreated into their cars. The two were left along with the minister as they watched the casket lower towards the ground. The past few years had been rough on the families and recent graves could be seen everywhere surrounding the Potter grave site. Sighing, Ron closed his eyes and vowed to stop his crying. Looking at the tombstone, he smirked at the lightning bolt shape carved into the granite and turned his eyes towards the sky.

Ginny left him and went towards the apparition point. She couldn't stand looking at his casket any longer. She had spent numerous days in St. Mungo's hoping they could cure the cancer. It seemed no sort of magic would find and eradicate what the world dreaded. Families all over the globe grieved as they realized the loss of such a hero. Once she reached the gate, she turned back one last time and smiled. His journey was over, the last saga. Harry Potter: the Boy Who Lived and Died.

Ron, being the last to leave, made sure nobody else was left in the cemetery before joining his sister by the gate. She looked up at him as he reached the gate; her eyes were clouding along with the past. Things were becoming fuzzier in the Weasley's minds as they accumulated years in their lifetime.

"Have you seen Hermione?"

"She left us a while ago, Ron. I didn't watch her."

"Neither did I. Maybe she's back at home. Come over for tea?"

"Of course." And with that Ginny held onto her brother's arm as they apparated to his house.

Upon entry, the house seemed undisturbed and unoccupied. Ron called for his wife as he strutted to the kitchen. He put on a kettle and pulled out some biscuits before realizing Hermione had not come home. Ginny sat at the table and munched on the biscuits; walking did not suit her very well due to a once broken hip.

"Hermione! Where are you?" Ron's calls became increasingly more frantic as time passed.

"Even if she's off to go fight a cave troll I think she'll be alright, Ron. She's aged far less than the rest of us," Ginny called to the empty house.

"I know... I worry though. I hope nothing happened to her."

"Who would want anything to do with an old person?"

It turns out many people want something to do with an old person. Hermione had followed Dudley to his car where he took them both to Harry's old house. While the Dursleys had left prior to Harry's seventh year, they did not sell the house. Dudley inherited it and now occupied it along with his wife. His two children, a boy and girl, both muggles, had grown and left years ago. He had just left her in Harry's old room when he was suddenly in the doorway again.

Dudley had kept the area underneath the stairs untouched. When she made her way downstairs, Hermione left a few tears fall at seeing the toys on the small shelf.

"This is all the room he had?"

"Only for a few years. Then he was given the room upstairs."

She hiccuped as she found a small envelope on the ground. It was a Hogwarts letter addressed to the eleven year old Harry. Tears fell even faster as she remembered their whole childhood in moments.

"Oh what would I give just to go back. Such wonderful times those were."

Dudley plopped down into a chair as he said, "Oh, I agree. This old age is harder to deal with than puberty. And if I went back I have a few things I'd like to change about myself. Get started on the right track."

Hermione kept the letter and sat in a chair opposite Dudley. He was rather large, but not nearly so as Vernon, who he looked very much alike. They passed back and forth the Christmas cards Harry had sent Dudley. In turn Hermione shared stories from when they were younger.

Unexpectedly, it turns out the two, Harry and Dudley, had met up once or twice and exchanged a few pleasantries. However, Dudley did not know how extensive Harry's success was in the wizarding world. He didn't even know that Harry constantly battled for his life.

She tried to bring up his wife but he dismissed the conversation with a hand gesture and a sigh. Dudley had grown into a bearable, if not likeable man who Hermione enjoyed conversing with. Upon spending an hour with the man, though, she was feeling too nostalgic to head home just quite yet. Standing on the doorstop to his house, she said goodbye and apparated far away.

"Good evening Mrs. Weasley!" A voice some distance away called out.

"Little Miss Creevey, what a surprise and delight. It has been some time since I have seen your family."

The tiniest little girl ran up to the old lady and jumped into her arms. Hermione was jostled but remained standing. Rachel Creevey was the granddaughter of Dennis Creevey and she had become the largest Golden Trio fan since Colin. She even insisted on being babysat by Hermione at one point to which she obliged. A figure emerged from Zonko's Joke Shop and jogged over to Rachel.

"Rachel, I told you not to- Oh! Mrs. Weasley, what a surprise."

"That's what I said. Are you already on a Hogsmeade trip Rachel?" Hermione replied.

"No, I'm too young for Hogwarts still," she stuck out her bottom lip in complaint. "Dad told me I could come to the joke shop for a day though so long as I didn't tell Colin."

"Well that sounds awfully fun!"

"Colin spent the whole week before Hogwarts telling Rachel about how excellent Hogsmeade is so of course she wouldn't stop talking about it. I decided to take a day off and spend it with her," Kyle lifted the girl into his arms as he spoke and she sucked on a lollipop.

"How old is Colin now?"

"He's finally thirteen."

"Wow, I feel even older now."

"I'm told by Dennis that it doesn't feel that good," he joked.

"I can attest to that," Hermione played along.

"So what are you doing up here?"

She glanced to the castle in the distance, "I was hoping to go see Hogwarts for one last trip. I miss it so much. All of it."

He nodded solemnly, "I understand. Well enjoy the walk, it's a lovely day."

"I will. Tell Dennis I said 'Hello.'"

"Will do. Goodbye Mrs. Weasley."

Leaving the family behind her, Hermione headed up the path that led to the castle. It was a journey she was sure to be making for the last time, but she did not feel sad. Instead she felt fulfilled. The pathway was strewn with leaves, sticks, and footprints. She had not walked it in many years and found herself reminiscing the days when the school had Hogsmeade trips.

The rain had not reached that region of England yet, but it was on its way and Hermione could see that by the dark clouds looming overhead. She reached the castle soon enough and stepped right up and through the solid doors. It was midday on a wednesday so she did not expect to find many students about. Deciding to talk to the headmaster, currently an Abbot, she climbed some stairs and made her way to a room she rarely entered.

Hogwarts seemed the same without her. The castle walls were dark as ever, the staircases moving right when you needed them to stay, and suits of armor guarding every corner. While it enthused her that nothing had changed it also dampened her mood. She expected this to be easy to dismiss as something other than the Hogwarts she grew up with, but it was all exactly the same. There was nothing that she could not claim as her own when she was younger.

Reaching the entrance to the headmaster's office, she suddenly realized that she didn't know the password. Craning her neck up, she looked around to see if she could see anybody. Deciding that nobody was around she called out.

"Hello? Professor Abbot?"

Upon hearing silence, Hermione drew her wand and tapped the stone to see if anything would happen. She did not know this woman otherwise she would have guessed passwords. Then she remembered a valuable piece of information: Neville had dedicated his life to Hogwarts and remained in the castle. Seeking her old friend, she turned and paced down the corridor.

The stone gargoyle leap up from it's place and spun towards the ceiling. Turning around slowly, Hermione observed the strange behavior. She walked back over to the stairs and looked upwards for the headmaster. Once she knew that nobody was coming down she went up. At the sight of the wooden door and slightly out of breath, she knocked loudly.

No noise emitted from the room so she took it as her cue to enter. Pushing the door inwards it creaked loudly and banged against the opposite wall. The room had changed drastically. Only one thing remained the same and that was where the desk was placed. Hermione remembered odd trinkets adorning every table when Dumbledore was headmaster, but instead of trinkets there were piles upon piles of paper. Food was scattered across the desk to her left and some had grown mold.

Ignoring the full office, Hermione opted to greet Dumbledore's painting. He sat in sky-blue robes upon his chair gracefully. The sight of his half-moon spectacles brought a sharp pain to her heart. She was sixteen when he died and now so many years had passed since she even thought of him.

"Hello Hermione," he recanted.

She gasped a little, "You recognize me?"

"Of course. For the brightest witch of your age, that was not obvious? You have changed much on the outside."

"Yes, I have. It's wonderful to see you as sharp as ever Professor."

"Hmm, I suppose I'm not a Professor anymore though."

"Well yes, but you are in memory to me."

Dumbledore seemed to think about something before he asked, "What brings you here, Hermione?"

"I came to see Hogwarts because I was feeling nostalgic. You see, today was Harry's funeral."

This seemed to strike Dumbledore in a weird way. He removed his glasses and looked at his hands in his lap, "I am sorry for the loss. He was an extraordinary boy and he lives on with us."

"Cancer it was, horrible disease. Ginny keeps mentioning how ironic it is that we have magic yet that we cannot cure a simple disease."

"It does not seem fair at all for him to die after all he went through. How are you handling this Hermione?"

She dropped her head. After all this thinking about Harry, Ron, and Ginny, she had completely overlooked herself. "I feel tired, Professor. I feel tired and old, and I'm not sure how many more years I have left. I just want to go back to my years at Hogwarts and start over. I want to be able to live again."

Dumbledore sat back in his chair and observed the old woman. "Look around, Hermione, and live once more while you can."

"I think I am going to wait for the headmaster so I can get a guide to help me with the stairs. But then, I will relive every moment and cherish it for the remainder of my time."

"Go ahead and star with this room. What comes to mind?"

"Your odd little trinkets that littered the room," she said excitedly.

"I dare say that they did not 'litter' the room, Hermione Granger."

"Are there any left? I never knew what any of them were for."

Hermione quickly scanned the room a second time until she saw a tiny silver object resting on one table. "What is that? I've never seen one of those before." She went over to it and touched a side of it. When she looked back at Dumbledore he was merely smiling. Pulling it off the table, she placed the heavy item in her arms. Staring intently at it's markings, she saw something she recognized. The same magical runes marked on time turners were etched onto the side.

"Is this a time turner?"

Dumbledore said nothing but smiled and turned towards the door where Hermione could now hear voices coming from. She tried to quickly rub off the hand prints and set it back on the table when she accidentally dropped it on the floor. The metal made a horrible crunching sound and she knew that she had made a large mistake.

"-and I think I've made a working prototype!"

"Yes, but I should like to inspect this device before it is used, headmaster."

"That is perfectly understandable."

"What did you say-" The man talking stopped when he saw the image before him. An old lady was bent over the headmaster's so called invention and attempting to fix it.

Hermione picked up the instrument and pushed a button she thought she broke. Then she proceeded to prod and pull a few more buttons to see if it was working. Then a high pitched cacophonous noise drained from the trinket and Hermione banged it a few more times until it sputtered off to a hideous stop.

"What did you do?" The headmaster screamed after a few seconds of silence.

"I dropped it on accident and I tried- I tried fixing it." Hermione saw two knobs. One she spun all the way to the number one, and the other she spun to a number close to 40. She had no clue where the knobs were in the first place.

"You might have triggered a false start!"

"A start to what?"

Steam suddenly emerged from the small container and covered Hermione's form. The cloud was so thick and condensed in one spot that her view of the others was blocked out within seconds. She tried coughing out the hazardous smoke but found it surrounded her entirely. A strange feeling began in her toes and moved up to her stomach. Soon her head was feeling drained and she lost her balance. Collapsing on the floor, Hermione clutched her heart which beat faster than ever.

In an instant she was weightless and floating in midair until she slammed down onto the ground again. Her body contorted into an inhuman shape and then her skin bubbled as if she was taking Polyjuice potion. Pain covered every inch of her skin until it started ebbing away from her toes. The pain left her legs, her stomach and then her chest. However, pain in one arm remained as it drained from the rest of her body.

Attempting to sit up from her position on the ground, she cried "Help," and crumbled into a lifeless heap.


End file.
